The New Superpower 2050
I am the voice of time —
The whisper of centuries long silenced,
And today, I thunder:
The Earth has turned. The meek now reign.
In the year 2050,
China stands not as a country,
But as the heartbeat of a new era,
The firstborn of the Global South’s resurrection.
Not with swords, but silicon.
Not with chains, but circuits.
Africa —
No longer a continent of carved borders,
But a single soul,
One country, one currency, one command.
Its deserts bloom with data farms,
Its skies sing with satellites.
Nairobi, Lagos, Addis — the new jewels of the world.
The old gods —
IMF, World Bank, UN —
Have crumbled into myths for the museum.
BRICS++ has risen, forged in fire,
A furnace of South-South solidarity,
Wielding economic thunder and military lightning.
The New Alliance of the Rising Earth
— a pact forged in justice —
Holds a strength the world has never known.
A military force not born for conquest,
But to protect balance, defend harmony, and uproot hypocrisy.
Meanwhile...
Europe staggers —
Not united, but scattered in tribal echoes,
Its streets echoing with hunger,
Its parliaments burning with blame.
Third World, now not a label,
But a mirror to their future.
And America —
Once fifty stars in pride —
Now scattered into fractured republics,
Each fighting to remember a name.
They come now, ship after ship,
Seeking shelter, seeking work,
Filing into Global South embassies
With applications marked: Desperate.
And the white man, once crowned in ignorance,
Now knows the taste of his own medicine.
Discriminated, undocumented,
Told: Learn the language. Wait your turn. Prove your worth.
But this is not vengeance.
This is balance.
The earth, long patient, has reset the scale.
Oh reader —
This is not a dream.
This is the roar of a future that remembers.
A reckoning seeded in colonized soil,
Watered with blood,
Now grown into a harvest of reckoning.
The last shall be first,
And the first shall be last.
This is the New Superpower.
And its name is Justice.
Copyright © Chanda Katonga | Year Posted 2025
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